


Once Upon a December

by BuruRaven



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Anastasia (1997), Alternate Universe - Parallel Worlds, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternative Universe - Historical, Angst, But Know That I Prefer Viktor 100 Times Over, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Main Character Death, Implied Secondary Character Death, I’m Using Victor Instead Of Viktor Because The Wiki Says So, M/M, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2018-12-27 07:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12075945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuruRaven/pseuds/BuruRaven
Summary: They told him they had found him very early in the morning, standing still on the orphanage’s doorstep, not knowing who, when or where he was, clad in torn, but rich-looking clothes, covered in blood that wasn’t his and managing only a sparse, incoherent speech.Have you ever wondered about Victor’s backstory? I have.You can also find this fic on my tumblr,here.NO KNOWLEDGE FROM THE MOVIE NEEDEDThere are a few details in this story that have been inspired by the movie, but the story in itself has nothing to do with it.





	1. On a journey to the past

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri!!! on Ice or Anastasia (1997). Yuri!!! on Ice and Anastasia (1997) are the property of MAPPA and Avex Pictures and 20th Century Fox Animation, respectively, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this, nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

✽  _Saint Petersburg, Russia, late January 2004_ ✽

 

There was a boy running through the shimmering white snow, giggling and hopping as he went. He kept sliding and often seemed about to lose his footing, but somehow never did. Big smile on his face, he moved as if running like this was, in itself, the greatest joy of his life. Perhaps it really was, he wouldn’t know, but right now he knew one thing for sure – he would not let them cut his hair!

The boy turned left and reached a deserted, snow-covered children’s park. Gasping from both excitement and exertion, he threw himself back-first onto the currently fluffy white sandbox. As cold tried to chill him through his thick clothes, the boy laid there catching his breath. Glossy grey strands of shoulder-length hair peeked out the hood of his thick jacket and around a long, finely chiselled face, framing his beautiful, delicate features and large grey-blue eyes. Adorned by this silver halo, the boy looked up at the clouds and felt thankful to simply be able to see them.

He knew the women wouldn’t follow him out here. In fact, he knew they hadn’t even chased after him in the first place. They knew how he could move – once out of the door, there was no more catching him. He would not agree to this haircut business, in fact, he didn’t have to, he definitely could self-determine now, he was 14 years and 1 month old, after all!

Well… technically, he didn’t know that. His age and birthday had been decided, alongside his name, by the headmistress of the orphanage, about 6 months previously.

All he knew about that day in July, when he first arrived at the orphanage, had been told to him afterwards – he had no recollection of it whatsoever. In fact, he had no recollection of anything at all until a few days after.

They told him they had found him very early in the morning, standing still on the orphanage’s doorstep, not knowing who, when or where he was, clad in torn, but rich-looking clothes, covered in blood that wasn’t his and managing only a sparse, incoherent speech.

They said he kept numbly repeating “They are all dead, they shoot them all.”, “Gandmama said to hold the key against my heart and I did.”, “I did what she said, so why does it hurt so bad, why are they all dead?”. Police had investigated his case for months but couldn’t reach any conclusion. The boy didn’t fit into any recent accident or crime committed in the country, neither did he fit the profile of any missing child. They kept most of his belongings as evidence and the orphanage took him in.

Funny, that word,  _orphanage_. The boy might not even be an orphan. In fact, he was sure he had a family somewhere. He just had to find them. He knew this because he had proof. Or something as close to proof as he would ever have, anyway.

Purposefully, the silver-headed boy pulled a chain out from under his thick clothing layers. Said chain was in fact a necklace and hanging from that necklace was a beautiful charm. Six green petals around a red centre – tiny precious gem stones laying on an 18 karats gold plate, they’d told him – he didn’t really care about that. He did care about what was on the other side of the gold plate, though.

During his first couple months at the orphanage, the boy would stare at that side of the charm for long periods of time, mesmerized. The characters at the bottom never looked the same. In fact, though logic kept telling him he must’ve imagined it, he would swear he had once seen them change right before his eyes. Either way, despite the entrancing magical feel of the beautiful jewellery piece and the sentimental value the boy hoped it carried, he didn’t know what it meant.

He held the charm with both hands above his face and scrunched his nose in concentration.

“Together in… whatever.”, he whispered, a cloud of breath leaving his lungs.

One of the older boys at the orphanage had once sagely declared that the weird characters were Mandarin, but couldn’t tell him what they meant. He had always thought mandarins were a small type of orange. Either way, the… word had changed since then. Or he thought it had, anyway.

                                    

“A memento? A souvenir? A… rendez-vous?”, he muttered, staring at it intently.

A soft whine halted the boy’s line of thought. Dropping the necklace back under all his clothing layers, the boy sat up on the snow-covered sandbox. A sharp whimper made him look at his feet.

There, on the cold snow, sat a small dog. Big dark pleading eyes and fluffy curly light brown-grey hair, the uncollared puppy was visibly shivering. Without a second thought, the boy partially unzipped his thick jacket and gathered the little trembling creature against his chest.

“There, there, let’s get you warm, little one.”, he said while affectionally patting the petite furry head and heading towards the nearest public building in a quest for warmth.

The building was a sports infrastructure of some sort. He’d never walked inside it, but there was no apparent obstacle to his passage, so in the boy went.

“Yes, it’s much warmer here. You’ll feel better in no time!”, he stage-whispered to the puppy hidden inside his jacket.

“Who are you talking to?”, a boy about his age asked with a smile.

Victor jumped in place, staring speechless at the dark-haired young teenager standing in front of him. The stranger was dressed in dark purple sportswear and carrying a pair of heavy and dangerous looking bladed shoes.

“… I…”, he tried, voice failing him.

“Do you want to watch practice?”, the brunette suggested with a wink.

Victor blinked.

“… Sure.”, he managed.

“Looked like it! It’s okay, come with me. If Coach asks, just say you’re my friend and that you came to watch my practice.”, the nice stranger said, turning and resuming his brisk walk deeper into the building.

“Understood.”, the grey-haired boy replied, easily catching up to him.

And that’s when he saw them. Figures dancing gracefully. Sliding on an ice rink. Jumping and landing elegantly on thin blades.

Complying to the nice stranger’s instructions, the boy sat on one of the benches surrounding the rink. His heart was suddenly beating harder in his chest, happiness filling every pore of his skin. He wanted to move like those people, wanted to cut through the chill of the ice and fly over the thrill of the leap.

The puppy, now warm, had seemingly gotten all its energy back. And it must have felt as excited as the boy, because it suddenly jumped out of his jacket and promptly ran towards the rink and onto the ice.

“No! Stop!”, the boy screamed, running after it. His sneakers slid on the ice, but he didn’t fall or stop, even jumping to avoid collision with a small red-headed girl that crossed his path, hands never touching the ice. He grabbed the terrified-looking puppy in his arms pirouetting on himself as he did and coming to a slow, controlled stop right at the centre of the rink.

For a couple seconds the rink became utterly silent and still. Then, someone shyly started clapping. Soon, a full-on ovation ensued.

“Boy!”, a deep voice made itself known above the cheer. Soon, a sturdy, prematurely balding, dark haired man was sliding towards the boy, “Dogs aren’t allowed here!”

“C-Coach-”, the nice stranger boy shyly intervened, following closely behind the man.

“Shut up, Georgi.”, the man interrupted, “My name is Yakov Feltsman and I’m the one in charge here.”

The grey-haired boy didn’t say anything, only held the puppy closer to his chest when the man introduced himself.

 _Yakov_ … somehow, that name made him shiver in fear. The puppy in his arms whimpered softly.

“Have you ever skated before?”, the man – now standing right in front of him – asked in a significantly softer tone of voice.

The frightened boy shook his head no. Surprised whispered exclamations were heard all around them. Yakov seemed to be carefully evaluating him.

“What is your name, son?”, he kindly asked.

“Victor. My name is Victor Nikiforov.”

 

✽

 

Two years later, by the age of 16, Victor Nikiforov was already at the top of the figure skating world, under the guidance and patronage of his coach, Yakov Feltsman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. (^_^) What did you think so far? Please leave me your thoughts in the comment section below! Also, if you enjoyed it, I just happen to have a great love for kudos. (^_~)
> 
> You may expect weekly updates.


	2. Once upon a December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events depicted in the following chapter happened somewhere during Yuri!!! on Ice S01E01.

✽ _Saint Petersburg, Russia, early April 2017_ ✽

 

Victor affectionately looked down at his sleeping pet poodle. Makkachin had been with him since that snowy day 13 years ago, the day when he discovered figure skating, the day when his life started.

He gently patted the fluffy head of the dog laying on his lap and smiled. These had been 13 happy, exhilarating years. His life had a purpose, he belonged somewhere, he had found his family in the figure skating world he loved so much. He couldn’t have asked for more.

It had turned out that he not only loved ice skating, but also excelled in it. In a handful of years, he was able to repay Yakov for all his monetary support throughout his early skating career and buy himself the house where he was now sitting in with Makkachin. He could also afford for many other necessary and… not so necessary expenses, which he happily did, of course. Life was good indeed. In fact, life had never been better.

Then, why did it feel so much like there was something amiss? Why did it feel so much like his inspiration had hit a dead end?

Victor sighed tiredly and readjusted himself on the couch where he and Makkachin were laying, returning his attention to the phone on his left hand.

Oh, Chris had just sent him a link to a video.

 

[[Katsuki Yuuri] Tried to Skate Victor’s FS Program [Stay Close to Me]](https://vimeo.com/196484555)

 

“Yuuri? _That_ Yuuri?”, he rasped, heart suddenly beating faster. Makkachin languidly wagged his tail. Victor clicked on the link.

And he was enraptured. He couldn’t take his eyes off the small screen, sudden realization hitting him like a truck.

Ever since Socchi’s Grand Prix, ever since that memorable December night, ever since those warm big brown eyes, ever since that sweet request… he’d been stalling. He’d been stalling to pursue a different kind of happiness. Something he craved, something he needed. This… this was where his inspiration laid.

Determination took over his beautiful features. He was going to keep his promise. A new form of wonderful happiness started filling his every pore, energizing him into action.

The video had come to an end. Heart still jumping in his chest, Victor scrolled down to look at the tags of the video, mostly out of habit.

And that was when his heart came to an abrupt stop. Victor could feel his hands going cold and clammy, his breaths becoming shallow.

 

**#Hasetsu**

 

He closed his eyes, trying to gather himself. How had he been so stupid?

Makkachin sat up and whimpered, worried. Victor immediately opened his eyes and smiled at his faithful companion.

“It’s all right, Makkachin.”, he cheerfully said, trying to calm the dog, “I just need to go check on something.”

Five minutes later, he was taking a simple medium-sized wooden box from under his bed. Inside that box were, among other random nostalgic items, a collection of photos from his time at the orphanage, a considerable bundle of comic books, a notebook, old CDs and a well-preserved deck of Pokémon cards…

It took him just a few seconds of rummaging through the box to find another much smaller box. This box was padded on the inside and contained only a beautiful piece of jewellery.

Victor gasped, mesmerized. He hadn’t seen it in so long, he’d almost forgotten what the necklace looked like.

He’d stopped wearing it about 3 years after he’d started skating. He had felt like the figure skating world he was now a part of provided him with all the comfort he needed. He had found a _tangible, living family_ ; he no longer needed a fantasy night time story to ease him into sleep on the more painful nights.

But, before delivering the necklace to his padded box seclusion all those years ago, he had given his lingering curiosity one last try at deciphering the meaning of the words on the back of the precious gem stone flower.

He had first tried to translate the foreign characters from the Chinese, just like the boy from the orphanage had advised. He found out it translated to “long valley” and was read as “zhǎng gǔjīn”. For all Victor had researched, “Zhǎng Gǔjīn” wasn’t the name of any actual place and he couldn’t possibly try to visit all the long valleys on Earth. Frustrated, he had then given a half-assed chance at translating it from the Japanese, because he had once seen Japanese characters on the back of a cookie package and thought they somehow resembled the writing on the back of the flower. When he got the useless “hase vali” translation, frustration finally got the better of him and he point-blank gave up on the whole endeavour. But. But he remembered what the characters were supposed to sound like.

Victor hovered his phone over the word on the charm and made the app read it aloud.

 

“[Hasetsu](https://translate.google.com/#ja/ru/%E9%95%B7%E8%B0%B7%E6%B4%A5).”, a mechanical woman’s voice happily declared.

 

 _Together in Hasetsu_.

Hasetsu was a place. A place that existed. In Japan. Where Yuuri was.

Victor placed the necklace box down on his bed and started packing immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter arrived 2 days earlier than planned, but it’s still safe for you to expect weekly updates every Sunday, Monday or Tuesday. (^_~)


	3. Heart don’t fail me now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events depicted in the following chapter happened somewhere during Yuri!!! on Ice S01E02.

✽  _Hasetsu, Japan, April 2017_ ✽

 

Makkachin by his side, pillow under his left arm, felling ecstatic in anticipation, Victor knocked on Yuuri’s bedroom door.

“Yuuri, let’s sleep together!”, he happily sing-songed at the wood in front of his face, “As your coach, there is so much I need to learn about you.”, he declared with a smile.

As Yuuri didn’t immediately open the door for him, he knocked again, harder this time.

“No!”, came Yuuri’s muffled scream from the other side.

“Yuuri!”, he insisted, “Yuuri…”, he could hear clattering now, some hurried thumping noises, along with the sound of crumpling paper coming from inside the bedroom and started to feel unsure about the situation, “Yuuri…?”

No response came. No more noise could be heard from the room. Victor’s right hand dropped from its raised knocking position to lay limp and defeated against the side of his now hunched body.

The awkwardness he had felt when Yuuri jumped away from him earlier grew stronger and started to morph into something painful, something that resembled rejection quite a lot. Why was Yuuri acting so distant towards him? Why was he acting like what they had shared on that memorable December night had never happened?

Makkachin whined softly, calling for his owner’s attention.

“Let’s go, Makkachin.”, Victor told the loyal canine, voice sounding pitiful even to his own ears.

He slept on a futon that night. On the ground. Perhaps he should ship a bed to Hasetsu too, along with that sofa…

Despite his reserve towards his current sleeping arrangements, Victor fell asleep as soon as his head touched the fresh linen. After all, he was still tired from the trip.

It didn’t take him long to start dreaming too.

 

_"Alyosha. Son. You need to wake up.”_

_There was a man standing up, hovering over a boy laying still in a bed at the corner of the room. Although he could see everything in the room in relatively good detail, Victor couldn’t clearly perceive their facial features. It was like their faces were in permanent obscurity. Victor knew he was dreaming right away._

_“… Papa?”, the sleepy boy groggily breathed out, “But it’s still dark out…”, he rasped in feeble complaint._

_“I know, but it seems we are to be moved again.”, the man calmly explained, “Here, let me help you.”, he gently held the boy under his armpits and pulled him into a seated position._

_The boy released a badly concealed whimper at the movement._

_“I’m sorry. Is it hurting too much?”_

_“N-no.”, the boy clearly lied, “But why would they move us now? Why move us at all? It makes no sense.”_

_The man pulled the bedcovers off the boy’s legs and passed him a heavy-looking, sporadically sparkling piece of clothing, failing to verbally reply to his son’s enquiry._

_The boy took the piece of clothing from his father’s hands and, for a long moment, simply held it in front of himself, neither of them uttering a word._

_Victor wished he could see their faces. What did this silence mean?_

_“You must be mistaken.”, the boy whispered, voice shaking slightly._

_“Still. Wear it. Please.”_

_They didn’t speak again._

_The man was finishing tying the boy’s shoelaces when there was a knock at the door. Both males looked up as the door was unceremoniously opened wide to show another obscure-faced man. This man was dressed like some sort of soldier. Other men stood silently behind him. All of them were visibly armed and exuded a dangerous kind of presence that made Victor fear for the prideful standing father and the pitiful seating son by the bed._

_“Please accompany me.”, the frightening man said simply in a deep, gruff tone of voice._

_The father nodded and leaned to carefully gather and carry the boy out of the room in his arms. Before he could get too far from the bed, though, the boy in his arms asked him to stop and pointed at an object on the nightstand. The man grabbed it and gave it to the boy, who immediately put it around his neck._

_As they crossed the room in front of him, Victor couldn’t help but wonder if the boy had possibly been spanked by those ominous-looking men… he’d seen, as the child got dressed, how his pale body had been blotted all over by so many little bruises…_

_He hastily shook those dark suspicions off his head and rushed after the pair._

_They were escorted through a corridor and down some stairs, then through a door and then…_

_“The cellar room? What is the meaning of this, Yakov?”, the father asked the gruff man._

_Victor’s memories tried to lead him back to the day when he had met his coach, to the fear he had felt then, and he shivered, a sense of impending doom slowly creeping over him._

_“There are some matters we all need to discuss.”, Yakov replied in the same brusque way of before, but motioned for the pair to go down the stairs that led to the cellar room._

_“Please bring chairs so my son and I can sit.”, a woman standing with dignity at the centre of the cellar room asked the men, the command of someone who expected to be obeyed clear in her beautiful voice._

_Apart from the men and Victor, who clearly didn’t count, there were 11 people in the cellar room. Most of them shared the same prideful and dignified posture of the father and the mother, a few looked like they were outright shaking in fear._

_Victor still couldn’t see the faces of any of them clearly, but he too was starting to feel afraid. It was like he knew something terrible was about to happen._

_He wanted to wake up._

_A man brought the requested chairs and the father carefully deposited the boy in one of them. Right before standing, though, the man seemed to fix his son’s gaze. Victor wouldn’t really know, he couldn’t see their eyes._

_No._

_“You have to be brave now. Promise me you’ll be brave.”, he whispered so quietly Victor could only hear him because he was standing so close to the boy._

_The boy surreptitiously took one hand to the necklace resting on his chest and squeezed it, then nodded. The man stood._

_And that was when the fear and the pain overtook Victor completely. He didn’t want to see what came next, he had to wake up. He must wake up._

_Wake up NOW!_

 

Victor sat up. He was shaking, crying.

For a terrifying moment, he couldn’t recognize his surroundings and it was hard to breathe. Then he heard a soft whine beside him.

Makkachin. Oh yes, they were sleeping in a futon. On the ground. In Hasetsu. Because Yuuri. Sweet, fascinating Yuuri. Who even his old necklace seemed to approve of. Victor smiled softly at the thought and gently patted his dog’s head.

A nightmare. Yes, he’d just had a nightmare, that’s all. A weird nightmare he could barely remember already. Must be the jetlag or something.

He laid back down on the futon, holding Makkachin close against him, not even bothering to wipe at his tears.

 _I really must get a bed into this room…_ , he mused sleepily right before losing consciousness once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think so far? Tell me in the comment section bellow! Share your theories with me, if you have any! Also, in case you were wondering, yep, I really do love kudos! (^_^)


	4. Courage don't desert me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events depicted in the following chapter happened somewhere during Yuri!!! on Ice S01E03.

✽ _Hasetsu, Japan, late April 2017_ ✽

 

“Vkusno!”, Victor exclaimed after his first taste of the delicious noodles at Nagahama Ramen. Yuuri was right, these were superb!

 

_If you aren’t up to my standards by next week, I won’t choreograph either of your programs._

 

Victor smirked around his second bite of the delightful ramen.

He was sure that declaration of his had sounded like a terrible ultimatum to the two namesakes. In all truthfulness, it was anything but. Yuuri and Yuri were both already up to his standards before he even came to Japan, or he’d have never wasted any of his time with either of them in the first place. The astounding progress they’d made in just one week only bore more proof to that.

He knew they would both do great at the exhibition less than two days from then. Although, if he was being completely honest about it, he had a favourite. In fact, he’d had a favourite since that memorable December night and he would most certainly keep having that favourite for the rest of his life.

Victor smiled and asked for seconds, speaking up in his very scratchy, newly-learned Japanese.

He knew that coming to Hasetsu had been the best decision of his life, right beside choosing to pursue a figure skating career. He just hoped this was what his necklace had meant. Because he sure as hell couldn’t find any Russian person, other than Yuri and himself, in Hasetsu. Yes, because he’d been searching almost every night, asking at every restaurant and bar he went to if anyone knew of a Russian person living in Hasetsu. No one did.

After his very satisfying dinner, Victor found himself walking towards Minako’s place. Somehow, all his nights out in Hasetsu would always end at her place. The bar, not her studio or her house, obviously. He loved her establishment because of the good ambience and, he had to confess, because of the good Russian vodka.

“Another one!”

“It’ll be your last one too.”, Minako replied with a good-humoured chuckle and watched as the last of the liquid in the bottle dripped into Victor’s shot glass, “I will not open yet another bottle for you.”

“That’s alright, I do intend to find my way back to Yuuri on my own.”, Victor laughed heartedly.

“To Yu-topia, you mean.”

Victor grabbed the glass in front of him and downed the vodka in one go without even as much as a flinch, smiling cutely at the bartended after. Minako blushed furiously.

“No, that was what I meant.”, he replied.

Minako opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by another costumer on the farther side of the counter.

Victor rested his face on his right hand, elbow propping it up on the glossy dark wood and followed the bartender’s movements with his eyes.

Maybe he shouldn’t have drunk so much, he was feeling a little sleepy.

Minako had grabbed a large low glass and put a big ice ball in it. She was now opening a bottle of deep-coloured whiskey and… and…

 

_“Nastenka, play with me.”_

_There was a boy holding a short wooden sled, standing by a young woman seated on a wooden chair facing a window. The window glass was painted and, although some sunlight still got through it, the street outside couldn’t really be seen._

_Victor was standing maybe a meter to the left of the pair, taking note of their obscured faces and concluding that he was dreaming again._

_“Let’s play with the sled.”, the boy insisted after getting no reply the first time._

_“You know, I really just want a little bit of fresh air.”, the girl said in a low voice._

_There was movement behind where Victor was standing. He turned in surprise and saw another young woman sitting on a small armchair a couple meters away. She seemed to have been reading before, but had put her book down on her lap after hearing what Nastenka had said. She said nothing._

_“You mustn’t.”, the boy whispered in badly-concealed alarm._

_Nastenka laughed. She had a beautiful, happy laugh. She laughed as if her life was devoid of any worry. Which, judging by the bizarre painted windows, Victor intensely suspected was not the case._

_“Don’t worry, I was just kidding!”, she assured the boy._

_There was a short pause._

_The young woman sitting on the armchair got back to her reading. The boy released a little relieved chuckle._

_“Okay, then. I’ll go see if Leonid wants to play with me.”, the boy declared, turning around and walking out of the room. Victor felt like he should follow him and so he did._

_They were just a few meters into the corridor when there was a shout._

_“Don’t open the window!”, a female voice cried._

_The boy turned on his feet, looking back right at the moment when there was a gunshot and a blood-curdling scream._

_Nastenka._

_Instead of getting back inside the room he’d just left, the boy grabbed the sled with purpose and ran down the short corridor to the stairs at the very end of it. Victor followed, heart jumping painfully in his chest._

_Alarmed screams, the sound of doors opening and people running erupted all around Victor and the boy, but the younger male didn’t seem to hear any of it, he simply balanced the sled on the edge of the first step of the stairs and got on it._

_“Don’t!”_

_“Alyosha!”_

_“STOP!”_

_“No, Alexei!”_

 

He wanted it to end. It hurt so bad, he just wanted it to end.

But he was falling. He hadn’t crashed yet, so why was it hurting so bad?

“Victor!”

Opening his eyes, Victor realized nothing was hurting yet and clumsily but effectively held onto one of the bar stalls before getting hurt for real. His elbow must’ve slipped on the varnished wood of the counter, resulting on him losing balance and almost crashing into the floor.

“Are you okay?”, Minako asked, apprehensive.

“Yes, perfectly fine! I fell asleep and had a little weird nightmare, that’s all.”, Victor chuckled, trying to squash the few memories of the disturbing dream by getting back on his feet, and definitely feeling more than just a little tipsy, “And I think that’s my queue!”, he cheerfully declared.

Minako laughed, sounding relieved.

“I think you missed your queue right before precariously falling asleep on my counter.”, she said good-humouredly, “You better get back to Yuuri, then.”

“Always.”, Victor replied with an innocent wink that looked incredibly sensual on him, big sincere smile on his face.

 

✽

 

“You suck!”, came Yuri’s muffled scream through the closed door in front of Victor, “Oy, Katsudon! Watch me do it one more time!”

Victor’s head throbbed slightly, hangover still not completely ceding to the paracetamol he had taken first thing in the morning. He pushed the doors to the ice rink open.

“Sorry I’m late!”, he said almost in his usual happy energetic self and immediately felt drained by the effort.

Still, the faces of shock of the two Yuris payed off the exertion.

“Huh? What were you practicing just now?”, he asked, falsely innocent. The two namesakes immediately slid away from each other as if they’d been stung, busying themselves with their respective choreographies.

Victor chuckled affectionately, a deep feeling of belonging immediately raising his spirit.

This. This feeling.

This was all the happiness he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heart don't fail me now, courage don't desert me, don't turn back now that I’m yet another year older… (-_-‘)   
> If you enjoyed this story so far, comments and kudos are very much appreciated! (^_^) Also, share your theories with me, if you have any! I’d love to know your take on what’s happening.


	5. Someone holds me safe and warm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events depicted in the following chapter happened somewhere during Yuri!!! on Ice S01E06.

✽ _sky (on route to Beijing), early November, 2017_ ✽

 

After placing first at The Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship and qualifying for The Grand Prix Circuit, Yuuri was now going to compete at the China Cup Grand Prix Qualifier Senior Division in Beijing. Which was where they were currently flying to.

“I haven’t flown coach in a while.”, Victor informed an over-dressed Yuuri sitting next to him on the plane.

Yuuri was looking at the window. The beautiful features that could be seen poking out of the brunette’s voluminous puffy coat were visibly tense. He was clearly thinking – no – overthinking things and surely stressing himself out needlessly.

Although Victor had long realized that Yuuri didn’t remember the events that transpired at the Socchi Grand Prix Final banquet, he occasionally liked to test it out, mostly because he still hoped the right trigger might make Yuuri remember at least part of what had happened.

While Victor was all into making new, better memories together, he couldn’t help but mourn the fact that Yuuri couldn’t remember the key event that started it all for Victor.

So, he tested it out once again, trying to sound as innocent as he possibly could.

“Want to get some champagne?”

Yuuri turned his head to look at him with an expression equal parts weary and apologetic.

“Um, Victor, can I get some sleep?”, was his reply.

Victor valiantly ignored the sting of disappointment that blossomed in his chest.

“I’m surprised you can sleep in such a cramped seat!”, he cheerfully remarked instead.

Yuuri could, indeed. And, leaning sideways on his seat against the younger man, so could Victor.

He felt so comfortable, so warm, so happy.

 

_A boy and an old lady were hugging in front of Victor._

_“Alyosha! How you’ve grown!! How was it that you got this big so fast?”, the woman laughed warmly._

_They gently broke off the hug, Victor releasing a small exasperated sigh at the view of their obscured faces. His dreams had suffered an abysmal decrease in quality in the past few months, indeed. Maybe he should go see someone about this._

_“It wasn’t that fast, Grandmama. You have just been gone for long!”, the boy laughed too, albeit in a slightly accusatory tone of voice._

_“No, no, no! I swear just now I blinked and you got 5 centimetres taller!”, she playfully declared._

_Four different voices laughed simultaneously, and that was what made Victor notice the two men standing on each side of the boy, about a meter or so to the back. Shocked to only having noticed them now, Victor evaluated them carefully. The men were dressed like sailors, a dress code the boy himself shared, and seemed to spend their time silently standing by the boy like that. Odd._

_The boy, Alyosha, carefully reached for the armrests of his expensive and comfy-looking armchair and slowly lowered himself to seat on it. He looked pale and seemed to be in pain, but none of the present commented on that. The warm fire crackled gently in the big, elaborate fireplace on the wall beside them._

_“What new wonders did you bring me from your travels this time?”, he cheerfully asked the lady._

_“Many things, so many stories too!”, she replied, clearly sharing the boy’s excitement, “But…! The one I’m more excited to show you is this!”, she declared, pulling two objects out from inside a small blue velvet bag and handing them to the boy._

_“They’re beautiful.”, the boy praised, fascinated, “Is this charm the key?”_

_In his left hand, Alyosha was holding a small, round-shaped golden box incrusted with green stones and white pearls. In his right hand, a hauntingly familiar charm._

_Victor gulped, shocked, getting a bit closer to the boy so that he could take a better look at the charm. It was…_

_“Yes! Turn it.”, the grandmother urged him with a warm chuckle._

_With no hesitation, the boy effortlessly fit the golden piece of the charm into a round-shaped groove on the front of the richly incrusted box and turned it a few times, then easily opened the lid of the box._

 

_A sweet song started playing,_ [ _the old lady easily singing along_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0rqAwb5s34) _._

 

_An inexplicable happiness filled Victor’s heart, much like the sweetness and warmth of honeyed milk. He came closer still, kneeling beside the boy’s hands so that he could see better._

_Inside the open music box, a single figure pirouetted in sync to the beautiful melody. It was the figure of a beautiful man, clad in dark blue, occasionally shimmering clothes. The miniature feet were seemingly sporting ice skates, one foot safely secured to the rotating pin, the other raised halfway in an elegant arch. Tiny arms curving loosely over his head, small face turned upwards with closed eyes and a blissful smile, dark hair pulled back..._

_“… Yuuri…”, Victor gasped thunderstruck, for the first time doubting the oneiric quality of what he was seeing._

_Hearing the lady singing to the music box’s soft melodic tones, seeing that little figure forever twisting to them, as if a future was being woven into the very fabric of Victor’s existence… It felt so real, it struck him so deeply, it felt almost like… a memory._

_“… and I was so sad I won’t be able to be with you for your 13 th birthday either that I decided to have these made.”, the lady was saying now, “I have a necklace just like that one and I wear it at all times.”, she added, resting one hand on her chest, supposedly where the necklace was laying under her clothes._

_“Oh, thank you Grandmama! I love it!”, the boy cheerfully said while carefully closing the box._

_“But you see…”, the lady whispered, conspiratorially leaning closer to her grandson. The boy mimicked her, heads almost touching halfway between their chairs. “This is a very special music box, it’s… magical.”_

_“Really??”, the boy asked, excitedly, “What does it do?”, he whispered._

_“You see, the two necklaces and the box are a set. They are part of a whole and they crave to be together, happy and safe. On the back of each necklace is the place where those three things are possible.”_

_“Right now, mine says «Together in Saint Petersburg».”, the boy observed._

_“Yes.”, the lady replied with an affectionate chuckle, “Mine does too. Because, right now, we are happy and the set is complete. But it might not always be like this, my dear…”, there was a short slightly ominous pause, in which the lady seemed to take a furtive look out the nearest window, “That is why, Alexei, I want you to promise me something.”_

_“Of course, anything, Grandmama!”, the boy promptly declared._

_The lady leaned even closer, lips near the boy’s ear, whisper barely audible even from where Victor was still kneeling._

_“If something… bad happens… and the place on the back of your charm is not the place you’re at... If it gets too bad…”_

_“Grandmama, what are you saying? What do you mean?”, the boy interrupted in the same barely audible sort of whisper, sounding alarmed._

_“The charm will always tell you were you are meant to be, the place where all the pieces of this set can be together and safe, the place where you will find happiness.”, the lady explained again, clearly trying to keep her tone calm and comforting, “I just want you to be safe and happy, my dear.”_

_“I know, but…”_

_“So, promise me. If something… like that happens, hold the charm against your chest and choose to live long enough to be happy again. Can you promise me that, my dear?”_

_The boy hesitated, then nodded slowly._

_“I promise.”_

_The lady knelt in front of the sitting boy and hugged him warmly, kissing the top of his head._

_“Thank you.”_

 

“-tor.”, a familiar voice was saying.

Victor felt safe and warm. He didn’t want to wake up. But someone was shaking him. Insistently. Also, his nice warm pillow kept moving under his head.

Slowly, painstakingly, he started to pull his mind away from the bittersweet tendrils of the dream.

“Victor, you need to let go, we’re landing in a few minutes.”, Yuuri insisted, sounding embarrassed.

 _Let go of what?_ , Victor’s sleepy brain inquired, confused. He opened his eyes to look straight up at a flustered tiny flight attendant speaking in fast Japanese and bowing profusely, like she was apologizing repeatedly.

“Victor, please sit up properly and fasten your seatbelt.”, Yuuri whispered urgently right beside Victor’s head. That was when he realized that he’d turned and twisted in his sleep and was now hugging Yuuri’s midsection, head resting on the other’s chest, lower body across both his and Yuuri’s seat, pushing Yuuri’s shoulders flush against the window, half laying on the other’s lap. He let go of Yuuri with a good-humoured chuckle.

“Oops.”, he said, getting back to his seat and clasping his seatbelt around his waist, while a flustered Yuuri talked with the flight attendant in fast Japanese, clearly dropping copious apologies. The attendant just looked relieved, bowing and walking away.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri. I’m a very sound sleeper.”, Victor said.

“Yes, you are.”, Yuuri laughed awkwardly. There was a pause, as if Yuuri was hesitating, “You also… speak in your sleep…”, he added, blushing intensely.

“Oh?”, Victor asked, surprised, “And what did I say? In my sleep.”

Yuuri’s skin acquired an even stronger shade of pink and he looked out of the window, clearly trying to avoid eye contact.

“Nothing too embarrassing, I hope?”, Victor teased.

Yuuri vigorously shook his head. Even the tips of his ears were pink now.

Victor paused, trying to remember the dream he’d just had. He already couldn’t remember it very well. It was something about a music box…? About a tiny doll that looked a lot like…

“Oh! Could it be...?! Did I call your name?”

Yuuri didn’t give any reply, but his whole body seemed to go tense in dreaded anticipation. Victor released a joyful guffaw.

“That’s only natural…! After all, I did dream of you.”, he declared, voice becoming low and warm.

Yuuri awkwardly nodded at the glass but still didn’t look at Victor.

Satisfied smile on his lips, feeling almost giddy with happiness, Victor leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes for the plane touchdown.

 _A Yuuri music box… what a silly but wonderful dream._ , he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried, but I couldn’t make an edit out of Anastasia’s music box. I also, unfortunately, don’t own the skill set necessary to draw it. But man, how I would LOVE to see little doll Yuuri in it…! If only someone would draw that for me… Ah, well… I guess a girl can dream… I think this chapter is pretty helpful theory-wise, do you not? Tell me in the comment section bellow! (^_^)


	6. And a song someone sings…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry about there being no update last week. Real life suddenly demanded my attention. Loudly so. And it’s still nagging me as of right now… (-_-‘) But I somehow managed to finally proofread and edit this chapter, so yay! The events depicted in the following chapter happened somewhere during Yuri!!! on Ice S01E07. Enjoy.

✽ _Beijing, early November, 2017_ ✽

 

They were at the ice rink where the free skate part of the China Cup Grand Prix Qualifier was going to take place. After Yuuri’s excellent performance at the short program part the day before, Victor couldn’t be happier.

Surprisingly though, he stood staring at Yuuri, fingers touching his chin in thought, a displeased expression on his face.

“Mm.”, he eloquently said while carefully considering the deep purplish dark circles under Yuuri’s eyes.

The dark-haired skater, although sporting his equipment and seemingly ready for practice, looked very pale and tired, hair sticking out at awkward angles, slight hunch to his posture…

“Yuuri, you haven’t slept, have you?”

“Uh?!”, the younger man squeaked, literally jumping in place at Victor’s rather uncharacteristic perceptiveness, “I-I-I did! A little bit, anyway.”, he said, arms gesticulating desperately about himself.

 

✽

 

“Nap until this evening’s event starts.”, Victor ordered as he man-handled a protesting, but very sleep-deprived, Yuuri back into bed and covered him with the comforter. Then, he promptly lied on top of that to force the skater to stay put.

“It’ll be fine.”, he said in a calming tone of voice while lovingly staring into the black sleeping eye cover he’d also imposed onto Yuuri, “I always slept in until the last minute before competitions, too.”, he informed, feeling sleepy himself.

Well, he guessed it was okay for the both of them to take a nap… So, naturally, he rested his head on Yuuri’s chest and immediately gave in to sleep.

“Victor! Did you set an alarm?!”, he heard Yuuri ask in the distance.

But what need was there for an alarm when he had Yakov to wake him up? Silly Yuuri, he worried too much…

Wait. 

Uh… Never mind….

 

 _It didn’t matter…_ _They… they were laughing. So many familiar voices, laughing all around him._

_It was warm and sunny, there was no pain, he felt so happy…!_

_He was sitting on a blanket on the grass, multiple books scattered about, his mother sitting beside him, the two Dyad'ka standing close behind._

_His father and three of his sisters were in the river a few meters in front of them, swimming and splashing in the water, laughing._

_“I’m jumping in!”, Nastenka shouted from atop a tall rock, hair a mess, brave big smile on her face._

_And so she did, splashing water everywhere._

_“Nooo!”, Mashka screamed playfully, completely drenched._

_Everyone laughed. He joined the laugher as well. It looked like so much fun, he wanted to jump into the water too!_

_“Mama, may I jump in the river?”, he tried._

_“No, you would get hurt, dear.”, his mother said without even raising her eyes from the book she was reading, “Do you want Klementy to go get you one of your toys?”_

_“No.”, he answered, defeated, shoulders hunching slightly._

_He grabbed one of the books, trying to fight against his disappointment, then stilled, thoughtful._

_“What if I jump to Papa…?”, he uttered, equal parts contemplative and hopeful._

_His mother stopped reading her book, raised her chin and paused, considering him carefully. She released a small sigh, then opened her mouth to speak…_

_“Not-Not jump from up a tall rock and dive into the river like Nastenka did…! Just… jump from a less tall place and into Papa. Or Derevenko… Or-or Klementy…!”_

_His mother didn’t say anything, mouth pressed into a thin line._

_A new bout of laugher reached them from the river._

_“Please, Mama!”, he pleaded, then stared expectantly as his mother turned to look at the Dyad'ka, then looked back at him and smiled._

_“Alright. But be careful.”_

_“Thank you, Mama!”, he exclaimed with a radiant smile, getting to his feet and taking his sailor hat off._

_He intended to run towards the river, but strong arms grabbed him before his bare feet could touch the river pebbles._

_Oh, right. He smiled up at Derevenko, who solemnly, but kindly nodded back down at him and transported the boy into the river until the water reached up the man’s hips. Then, he deposited the boy safely on a rock that poked just out of the water there, keeping one strong hand loosely latched onto the boy’s right ankle for safety._

_“Hello, sunshine!”, his father greeted him with a big smile. His sisters, too, turned and stopped what they were doing to wave and smile at him affectionately._

_“Hello!”, he greeted back, his clear laugher like the sweet ringing of happy bells._

_His father looked behind the boy, probably at the boy’s mother, then smiled again, a mischievous playful kind of smile on his face this time._

_“Jump in.”, he said, arms open wide, “Jump!”_

_And, happiness filling his heart to the fullest, he did. He felt the thrill of the fall, knowing that he’d be caught._

 

Victor woke up and, feeling Yuuri’s warm body under his own, he felt like he had jumped right into the other man’s arms. He hugged him close, taking in the familiar scent.

This was it, this was that feeling. He was just as happy as in his dreams, this was the happiness we had lost. The happiness he had now, finally, found again.

“V-Victor…?”

As Victor slowly regained consciousness, he noticed that the comforter was no longer between them and that he was, in fact, hugging Yuuri’s mostly naked body. Not that this was anything new for them – he’d seen and touched basically all of Yuuri’s naked body in the onsen – but he could feel how tense the other was underneath him, so he released the younger skater, sitting up.

Yuuri sat up too, pulling the sleeping eye cover off his eyes as he did.

“Victor, did you set an alarm?”, he asked, urgent.

“No. Why would I…?”

Yuuri was the perfect picture of someone who was panicking internally. He hastily went to grab his phone.

“Oh…! Right, Yakov won’t be waking me up anymore! I forgot.”, Victor laughed light-heartedly.

“Yeah, I suspected as much.”, Yuuri breathed out while staring at the time on his phone, the dissipating panic leaving him suddenly very tired, back hunching under the weight of his exhaustion, “Well, we should probably go back now.”

 

✽

 

Logically, a very sleep-deprived Yuuri was also a very anxious Yuuri.

Like Victor had feared, flubbing his jumps during practice had only made things worse. Watching – and even just listening to – the other skaters’ performances had driven everything even farther downhill from Yuuri’s already weakened mental state.

And that’s how they got themselves into the now tear-filled underground parking lot…

“Just have more faith than I do that I’ll win!”, Yuuri screamed at Victor’s face, fat, deeply heartfelt tears steadily plummeting down his face, “You don’t have to say anything. Just stand by me!”

For a moment, Victor very literally just stood there, utterly shocked into stunned stillness, as he watched Yuuri loudly fall apart.

Then, as understanding dawned on him, he slowly, carefully, came closer until he was gently hugging the other’s shaking body. He deliberately rested his chin on the top of Yuuri’s head and closed his eyes. In turn, still sobbing Yuuri tentatively rested his head on Victor’s shoulder.

And that was when Victor started humming a familiar melody.

 

Hesitant at first, soon the humming morphed into a [whispered song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HRB9m8Tjho0).

 

Gradually but surely, Yuuri calmed down in Victors arms, more of his weight resting on Victor’s chest.

Eventually, the song came to a stop, but neither moved.

“What was that song?”, Yuuri asked after a while, in a raspy but calm voice.

When Victor didn’t immediately reply, he sniffled, then gently broke the hug to meet Victor’s gaze.

Yuuri’s eyes were red from crying, an almost feverish blush staining his cheeks from all the tears and the screaming, but he still looked up at Victor curiously.

Victor missed his touch already.

“Mm. I don’t know. Something someone sang to me when I was little, I think. Or maybe… maybe something I heard in a dream. I’m not sure.”, Victor released a carefree chuckle while aimlessly waving one hand in the air, “Why do you ask?”

Yuuri hesitated, looking like he was trying to remember something, but then gave a little shrug.

“No reason. I just thought it sounded familiar.”

Victor nodded, then gently threw his arm over Yuuri’s shoulders, resting his left hand on the skater’s left shoulder.

“Well then, shall we?”, he prompted with a confident smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, though very different from the ones before it, this was the last of the weird dreams! I wonder what you made of them…? I’d love to know! Please tell me in the comments!!  
> P.S. I love kudos. (^_~)


	7. Dancing bears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events depicted in the following chapter happened somewhere during Yuri!!! on Ice S01E08.

✽ _Moscow, late November, 2017_ ✽

 

“Now, the last jump is a mega-jump that not even Victor Nikiforov ever attempted in the second half, a quadruple Lutz!”, the speaker was saying on the screen.

They were in Russia, more specifically in Moscow, for the short program part of the Rostelecom Cup Grand Prix Qualifier. Yuuri had already given his performance and was currently in first place. JJ’s performance, though... it would probably dethrone him.

The screams of the spectators suddenly became more intense and reverberated through the building’s foundations.

“He did it!”, the speaker exclaimed as JJ nailed the quadruple Lutz on the screen. The other skaters watching JJ’s performance beside Yuuri shared the narrator’s excitement, but not all for the same reasons.

Yuuri turned to look at Victor and gauge his reaction… but he was no longer standing by his side.

“Huh?”, he twisted to look behind himself, easily locating his coach. And that’s when he saw her.

She was a short elderly white-haired plump lady and she was merrily talking with Victor.

“Oh, Yuuri, come here, let me introduce you!”, Victor cheerily exclaimed as soon as he noticed Yuuri looking.

Awkwardly, Yuuri complied, tentatively smiling at the sweet-looking old lady.

“Yuuri, this is direktrisa Evgenia. Babushka, this is Katsuki Yuuri!”, Victor exclaimed simply.

 _Babushka… Huh? Is this Victor’s grandmother? What is a direktrisa?_ , Yuuri thought, confused.

“Hello! I’m Evgenia Nikiforova!”, Evgenia said, pointing to her own face and using the same type of minimalist introduction that Victor had used before.

 _Nikiforova!! Could… could this lady really be Victor’s grandmother? But he referred to her as direktrisa, whatever that is… It sounded like a job description, though. Would Victor introduce his grandmother like that?_ , Yuuri wondered, head spinning with equal parts nervousness and confusion. He tried to gather his bearings.

“N-Nice to meet you, I’m Katsuki Yuuri, I’m Victor’s-”

“Oh, I know everything about you, Yuuri!”, the old lady interrupted, immediately coming closer to greet Yuuri with a kiss on each cheek.

Yuuri held very still and tried not to freak out. Oh yes, Russians greet each other like that, he had almost forgotten.

 _She smells like cookies._ , he thought absent-mindedly as Evgenia stood at a more comfortable distance now.

“Even if Vitya didn’t call me to talk incessantly about you for two hours at a time, there was no way television wouldn’t have told me about the man who stole Victor Nikiforov from the ice!”, she declared, releasing a loud, hearty laugh. Victor easily joined her.

Yuuri had probably never felt more awkward in all of his life. His brain, though, was stuck over the mystery of Evgenia’s identity.

 _She must be his grandmother. What else could she be?_ , Yuuri mused while embarrassedly staring at the laughing pair, _But… isn’t that a little weird…? Victor never talks about his family in interviews, so everyone always assumes that he just wants to keep that part of his life private. But a grandmother whom he regularly calls to talk about… me?? How did she never pop up in conversation?? It’s been months, after all…_

“Mm, judging by the expression on your face, you probably know nothing about me, you poor thing…”, Evgenia observed, sobering up a bit and fixing her gaze on Victor, an odd expression taking over her crinkled features.

It was like she was looking for something, like she was asking for Victor’s permission, almost.

“That barely sounds fair, don’t you think, Vitya? With you having gone to live with him and already meeting his family…”, she said, mild reproach now tangible in her words.

For a second, Victor looked like he’d been caught eating chocolate before dinner, then he nodded and scooted closer to Yuuri, throwing one arm over his shoulders and speaking softly next to the other’s head.

“This is Evgenia Nikiforova, the headmistress of the Saint Petersburg’s orphanage I grew up in.”, he said.

“Orpha-”, Yuuri murmured numbly. This was the first time he was hearing about this.

“Not anymore!”, Evgenia declared, interrupting Yuuri again, “I’ve retired a few years ago, and I am now living here in Moscow with my granddaughter.”, she said, waving at a beautiful, slim young woman, sweet-looking just like her grandmother, by the exit at the end of the corridor. Yuuri thought she looked somewhat familiar.

“Did you watch Yuuri’s short program?”, Victor asked.

“But of course!”, she turned to look at Yuuri, “You did great. My granddaughter and I adored your performance, Yuuri. I hope you win gold.”, she finished with a confident wink.

“Thank you.”, Yuuri replied, feeling honoured by Evgenia’s kind support, pink creeping up his face.

Evgenia smiled openly at him, then fixed her dark brown eyes on Victor.

“But you are going to go back to skating, eventually, aren’t you, Vitya?”, she asked, sounding hopeful, “Oh, how I would love to see you skate in that beautiful outfit of yours again…!”, she said, almost dreamily, “You know, the one that I love, the one that looks like the clothes you were wearing when you first arrived at our doorstep… Janny – my granddaughter –”, she informed Yuuri, “loves it too!”

“Outfit?”, Yuuri turned his head to look at Victor’s smiling profile.

“From my free skate, Stay Close to Me.”, he calmly explained, winking at Yuuri, “Sure thing, Babushka! Even if I don’t go back to competitions, I will return to the ice and skate with that outfit at least one more time, just for you!”

For a moment, the image of a tiny Victor, clad in the outfit from Stay Close to Me, standing small and cute at a dark doorstep – skates and stage light included – crossed Yuuri’s mind unbidden.

He resolutely shook the idea off. _That’s surely not how it happened_., he told himself.

“It’s a promise, then!”, Evgenia said with a chuckle, then looked back at Yuuri, “My granddaughter and I will be rooting for you at the free skate tomorrow, Yuuri!”, she declared with a big smile, then became serious, “Please take care of each other, alright?”, her eyes slid between Yuuri’s and Victor’s gazes, meaningful, “And be happy.”

“We will.”, Victor promised with no hesitation.

“Thank you for the support.”, Yuuri whispered with a little bow, feeling undeserving of this sweet lady’s fondness.

“Well then, I should go, my granddaughter is waiting. You should go visit the house when you are in Saint Petersburg, Vitya. I’m sure the others would love to meet Yuuri.”, she said, winking knowingly.

For some reason, Yuuri found himself blushing again.

“I will!”, Victor declared, waving as the old lady walked away from them and towards the patiently waiting Janny.

When she was gone, Victor turned to humbly, apologetically, face Yuuri.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri, I-”

But he was interrupted by Yuuri’s phone ringing. It was Mari. How unexpected.

Taken by surprise, Yuuri took the call.

“Hello?”

 _“Oh, Yuuri?”_ , Mari said on the other side of the line, _“Sorry to bother you during an event, but Makkachin stole some manjū and they got stuck in his throat. We’re at the vet right now, but we’re not sure he’ll make it...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you’re wondering, yes, I am [her](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSCHQBlnluA) fan. Comments and kudos are very much appreciated! (^_^)


	8. Painted wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I must thank you guys for all your comments and kudos, I really appreciate those. (^_^)  
> Secondly, I’m sorry for not updating last week, real life has been keeping me away from this fic. Also, my head keeps hindering this writing process with ideas for another fic. A disturbingly dark, science-fiction, dystopian world YoI fic that I’ll probably never write. But, hey, I fixed the tags?
> 
> Okay! So! This chapter is a flashback from when Yuuri was 18 years old. It tells us why Viktor’s song sounded familiar to him. And no, it’s not because Yuuri watched Anastasia when he was little. (^_~)  
> This is a very important chapter plot-wise, so pay close attention.

✽ _Hasetsu, early August, 2012_ ✽

 

“And when are you leaving for Detroit, Yuuri?”, Minako asked as she repositioned his leg into an even more accentuated angle, “After The Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship?”

“Mm-mm!”, Yuuri grunted affirmatively with a clipped nod of his head, clearly in pain at having his muscles stretched to such an extreme.

The door to the studio opened quietly and a smiling silver-haired elderly lady peeked inside. It was night time and Minako’s classes for the day were long over, Yuuri, of course, being always the exception. But the woman wasn’t one of Minako’s students. 

“Sophie-san!”, Minako exclaimed in greeting, “Come in, come in! Are you going to bed already?”

“Soon, yes. But, before that, I was hoping you would join me for some milk and cookies.”, she said cheerfully, “You too, Yuuri-kun!”, she added with a wink.

Minako checked the time on her wrist watch.

“Yes, we should call it a day.”, she declared, walking towards the sound system and turning the music off, “We will gladly take your offer, Sophie-san. Isn’t that right, Yuuri?”

The relieved expression on Yuuri’s face at adopting a less uncomfortable, more natural position, suddenly changed into one of mild embarrassment and awkwardness.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude…! Besides, it is late, I should perhaps…”, he tried weakly as he put his glasses back on.

“Nonsense!”, Sophie interrupted with a smile, coming closer to Yuuri and taking his arm in one of hers, “I heard you’re leaving Hasetsu soon and I want to show you something before you do. So, I insist.”, she declared, pulling him along.

Minako chuckled as she closed the studio behind them.

Soon, the three of them were sitting around the low table at Minako’s living room. Well, Minako’s and Sophie’s living room, as the elderly lady had been Minako’s tenant for 9 years now and was basically part of Minako’s family.

Minako had told Yuuri that Sophie was from Denmark, where she had lived most of her life and where she had worked as a ballet instructor. She had lost all her family at some point, eventually leaving her country and ending up in Hasetsu, at Minako’s doorstep, asking for a job at her ballet studio. Minako had then suggested their current living arrangements.

“Are you excited about going to Detroit, Yuuri-kun?”, Sophie asked, two gentle large grey-blue eyes captivatingly staring at him.

Yuuri halted the glass of milk midway to his mouth.

“Y-yes. Very much!”, he replied, setting the glass down on the table.

“I’m sure you’ll meet him one day, that handsome young man you admire so much.”, she said with a kind smile that reached all the wrinkles around her eyes.

Yuuri blushed and looked away, suddenly very interested on the freshly baked cookies laying on the plate before him.

“Thank you.”, he whispered sincerely.

Minako chuckled as she tipped a generous serving of whiskey into her milk, then downed it all in one go.

“You do have to practice very hard so you can actually go meet him where he goes.”, she said, gently elbowing Yuuri’s arm.

Yuuri nodded, determination taking over his features.

“I will try my hardest, Minako-sensei!”

“I know. I have faith in you, Yuuri!”, Minako replied with a big smile, raising her right fist with two fingers up in a V.

Sophie smiled too, taking one hand to her chest and squeezing gently.

“I’m sure that you two will meet one day. Even if you don’t go meet him where he goes, then he will surely come here.”, she declared.

“Here? To Hasetsu??”, Minako laughed, “Why would Victor Nikiforov ever come to Hasetsu?”

Sophie easily joined her laugh, Yuuri awkwardly following their lead.

“That reminds me!”, Sophie said as soon as the laugher subsided, tone now serious, “I want to show something to you, Yuuri-kun.”

She took a beautiful small box from the pocket of her jacket, setting it on the table in front of her. Then, she took her hands to her neck and fished a beautiful necklace from under her clothes. She carefully fit the necklace’s charm into an appropriate recess on the box and twisted it a few times, then opened the box’s lid.

 

[And the music box played its old song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9qgtga5mz0).

 

“Oh… it’s that song you’re always humming…”, Minako whispered quietly, then leaned to take a closer look at the figure spinning inside the box.

Black hair slicked back, skates on his feet, elegant pose. A brunette male figure skater dressed in a sparkling dark blue outfit.

Minako blinked, then looked at Yuuri in surprise. Blinked again, then stared at the little figure in the box with a frown. Finally, she looked accusingly at her empty glass and shook her head.

Yuuri was mesmerized by the beautiful melody and the little figure skater, thinking that he would like to one day wear an outfit similar to that one.

Sophie had her eyes closed, a sweet smile on her wrinkled lips.

The three of them listened in silence to the whole melody, then Sophie carefully, lovingly closed the lid and sighed a nostalgic sigh.

“It’s beautiful, Sophie-san.”, Yuuri praised.

“Was this your grandson’s, then?”, Minako asked.

Sophie smiled warmly to Yuuri and nodded to Minako, a dreamy expression taking over her wrinkled, but still beautiful features.

“A long time ago, I had this music box made for my grandson.”, she said with a tender smile, “My son’s youngest. Alexei.”, the corners of her mouth soon drooped, her eyes losing their shine, “They have all… passed away. All of them.”, she whispered, “This is a fact in this world.”, Sophie took a deep shuddering breath.

 _In this world?_ , Yuuri echoed in his head.

“Even though I found myself alone here, for a long time, I believed… I hoped that somewhere else, perhaps…”, tears were now starting to fill her eyes, voice shaking slightly, “For years, I waited, I hoped.  Until it became very hard for me to believe… I told myself that it had all been a glitch, that it had just happened to me, that he had never even had the chance to…”, she gulped and shook her head minutely, as if trying to stop her own words from coming out.

Yuuri was perplexed. Minako solemnly nodded along to the elderly lady’s words, looking like she was used to this confusing speech. She probably was.

“Of course, deep down, the hope never died completely. I wanted to hold onto it just a little bit longer.”, Sophie paused to smile at Yuuri, tears finally tumbling down the moment her eyes were squeezed by the upwards movement of her cheeks, “Just a little bit longer.”

Yuuri found himself acquiescently nodding in response to Sophie’s last sentence. He didn’t really understand what Sophie was talking about, but hoping was never a bad thing, especially if it made her hurt a little less.

“Oh, Sophie-san…”, Minako murmured comfortingly, squeezing the elderly lady’s shoulder affectionately.

“But. But I had to try to give up, at least, you know?”, Sophie continued after rubbing at her eyes like they’d betrayed her, “I felt like I owed their memories that much. So, I searched for their lost belongings. I wanted at least a memento. For a little altar, like you do in this country. To say goodbye. And, eventually, I found the music box at an auction. The seller didn’t even know what it was or whom it had belonged to. I spent everything I had on it.”, she chuckled, “All the money I had made by selling my clothes and jewellery and by working here. But, you know, Yuuri.”, she smiled a very sad smile, “My son, my grandchildren, they… were everything I ever cared about.”

Minako held Sophie’s left hand on the table and squeezed it comfortingly, then raised to her feet.

“I’ll go get you some tissues.”, she said and disappeared in the direction of her bedroom.

 _At an… auction…?_ , Yuuri thought, confused, feeling like he was missing a big chunk of that story.

“I almost gave up completely.”, Sophie paused, an inscrutable expression on her pale features, “But I never did put up the altar.”, she laughed, “I was about to make all the necessary arrangements to do it when a boy named Katsuki Yuuri decided to teach me everything about his idol and his dreams.”, she said, stretching her right hand across the wood to gently grab Yuuri’s. Her touch was warm, comforting, like a grandmother’s touch, “You brought hope back into my world, Yuuri. Thank you.”

Yuuri didn’t know what to say. He just looked into those beautiful big blue eyes as they filled with new happy tears. He didn’t know why, but, at that moment, the sympathy he felt for Sophie’s pain mingled almost seamlessly with unexplainable waves of a foreign kind of happiness and he, too, had to struggle against tears.

“I’m sure you will be happy.”, she said with a confident smile, then added in an almost inaudible whisper, “You and Alyosha.”

“W-who?”, Yuuri whispered back, confused, almost scared to ask.

“He looks different, but so do I.”, Sophie said, free hand grabbing one of her silver tresses, her fast-whispered words suddenly acquiring an almost delirious kind of urgency to them, “The jump changed us both, him more than it did me. But maybe that was for the best. We couldn’t possibly stay the same in this world when our stories had already been told once before.”

 _… huh…?_ , was Yuuri’s eloquent inner reaction to these words.

“Our stories?”, Minako asked as she sat back down, tissue box at the ready, “What are you guys talking about?”

“Nothing much, my dear. Just the ramblings of an old person.”, Sophie said lightly, tapped the back of Yuuri’s hand once, then released a tired sigh, “I think I’ll be retiring to bed now. It was a long day.”, she said, putting her necklace back on and slipping the charm under her clothes, then using the low table for support to get to her feet.

“I should be going too. It’s late.”, Yuuri said, raising from his kneeling position, “Thank you for the milk and cookies. And for the kind words.”, he bowed slightly.

Sophie smiled fondly at him, one hand holding the music box close to her heart.

“May victory find you and never leave you, Katsuki Yuuri.”

She winked playfully.

 

✽

 

About one year later, the one known in Hasetsu as the Danish ballet instructor, Sophie Frederikke, peacefully passed away in her sleep, aged 81 years old. Her will contemplated only one name, Okukawa Minako.

Sophie’s body was given a small [traditional Japanese funeral service](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.tofugu.com%2Fjapan%2Fjapanese-funeral%2F&t=NTQxYTA3NzZmMTkxNGI4MGU5MjJiMzFjMjVjNzg4ODExYzNhMmEwOSxOSGNKa0VnVw%3D%3D&b=t%3AuQP6nFk6VcMfs2Zpp3QKMw&p=http%3A%2F%2Fbururaven.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F165273233139%2Fonce-upon-a-december&m=1) and a simple gravestone was erected for her in the graveyard.

                                                             

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, she is dead. And yes, her hair colour was precisely like Victor’s.  
> Next chapter will bring sexy times, in case you’ve been wondering about those.  
> Comments and kudos are very much appreciated! (^_^)


	9. Let this road be mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the enthusiastic comments and theories, guys, I honestly couldn’t have asked for a better group of readers! Please know that I cherish every single comment, every single kudo and bookmark dearly, they really mean a lot to me. (^_^) Thank you.  
> The events depicted in the following chapter happened somewhere during the end of Yuri!!! on Ice S01E11 and the beginning of S01E12.

✽ _Barcelona, mid-December, 2017_ ✽

 

The short program part of the Grand Prix Final had placed the new world recordist, Yuri Plisetsky, in first place, Otabek and Chris following in second and third places, respectively. Yuuri had placed fourth with a classification just a little shy of the hundredth mark. But all this could change with the free skate the following day.

And Victor? Victor was acting differently.

Yuuri could feel it, could almost touch it. Victor wanted to take the dare, he craved to return to the ice. And Yuuri couldn’t help but feel guilty for that, even though he knew Victor would never blame it on him.

Still… he had to fix this.

“Apparently, Minako-sensei is drinking with Celestino at a bar.”, Yuuri informed as he scrolled through his phone while sitting on the hotel’s bed.

“Wow, best to keep our distance.”, Victor replied in his usual cheerfulness as he rubbed a towel through his wet hair, fresh out of the shower and clad only in the hotel’s bathrobe and slippers, “Anyway, Yuuri… What did you want to talk to me about?”, he asked from his place on the windowsill, right in front of Yuuri.

The man sitting on the bed lowered his phone and looked at Victor straight in the eyes, brown meeting blue openly, like they had so many times in the past few months. There was resolve in that stare. Resolve and vulnerability.

“Mm.”, Yuuri said, solemn. The hands on his thighs balled into tight fists, right hand holding his phone and sporting a ring just like Victor’s. Yuuri took a deep breath, clearly steeling himself for what he was about to say, “After the Final, let’s end this.”

There was a small pause.

“Huh?”, Victor eloquently said, visibly confused.

“You’ve done more than enough for me, Victor.”, Yuuri explained, “Thanks to you, I was able to give everything I had to my last season.”

 _Last season?_ , Victor thought, confusion suddenly morphing into something painful.

Yuuri lowered his head in a bow, “Thank you for everything, Victor.”, he said with his head still reverently down, “Thank you for being my coach.”

Victor could feel the tears falling down his cheeks now.

Was Yuuri telling him goodbye? Ending _them_?

No, it couldn’t be. This clearly wasn’t personal. It didn’t have anything to do with their relationship.

“Victor?”, Yuuri asked, hesitant, noticing Victor’s tears and looking up, slightly alarmed.

Victor didn’t meet his gaze, only releasing a small sigh as he tried to put some order into his thoughts.

He couldn’t believe Yuuri was threatening to deny him the one challenge he truly wanted to face. He’d come to realize it recently, how much he craved to face Yuuri on the ice. He had wanted very few things in life as much as he now knew he wanted that.

“Ah-ah… I didn’t expect Katsuki Yuuri to be such a selfish human being.”, he drawled in a reproachful tone, voice steady despite the turmoil in his chest.

“Yes.”, Yuuri agreed carefully, “I made this selfish decision on my own.”, he made a small pause, voice becoming softer, “I’m retiring.”

Victor released a shaky sigh, more tears falling down his beautiful face, still refusing to meet the other’s eyes.

Yuuri’s hand gently touched Victor’s bangs, trying to brush them away from his face.

A feeling similar to rage blossomed on Victor’s chest, unbidden. Yuuri didn’t get to both hurt and comfort him in the same blow. Victor wouldn’t allow it.

“What are you doing, Yuuri?”, he asked in an ominously neutral tone of voice.

“Oh. I’m just surprised to see you cry.”, Yuuri awkwardly explained, not removing his hand from Victor’s hair.

Victor couldn’t hold it in any more, he met Yuuri’s eyes with all the force of his revolt.

“I’m mad, okay?”, he nearly growled, slapping Yuuri’s hand away.

Yuuri looked equal parts shocked and confused.

“You were the one who said it was only until de Grand Prix Final, Victor!”, he tried to argue.

“I thought you needed my help more.”, Victor countered. No, perhaps he wasn’t being completely honest. Truth was, he _hoped_ Yuuri would _want_ his help more.

“Aren’t you going to make a comeback?”, Yuuri asked carefully, then looked down at his knees, vulnerable, “You don’t have to worry about me-”

“How can you tell me to return to the ice while you’re retiring?!”, Victor interrupted, rising from his sitting position to grab at Yuuri’s shoulders and force him to look up again.

Yuuri was the main reason he wanted to return to the ice. He wanted to compete against _him_. How could Yuuri not understand this?

Large, confused brown eyes looked up at his.

“B-but…”, Yuuri started weakly, “… you just said you thought I needed your help m-more-”

“You do! And I want to give you my help!”, Victor insisted, lightly shaking Yuuri’s shoulders for emphasis.

“T-then, I must re-”

 _Oh_. Yuuri wasn’t being selfish. He wasn’t being selfish at all. Yuuri believed he was an obstacle to Victor’s comeback. And he would go as far as leaving the ice himself, something Victor knew he loved so dearly, just so Victor could return to it.

Love filled Victor’s heart as realization hit him, the shadows of both rage and rejection suddenly wiped clean off his chest. On a whim, Victor interrupted the rest of Yuuri’s selfless declaration with a kiss.

The kiss turned out to be a little more forceful than he had anticipated and they fell back onto the bed, Yuuri whimpering in confusion under Victor. But he didn’t break the kiss.

In fact, Yuuri seemed to relax in response to Victor’s passionate ministrations, both hands coming up to lovingly hold Victor’s head as their kiss deepened, fingers gently combing through Victor’s still damp silver locks.

Victor’s hands travelled down Yuuri’s shoulders to his waist and, without breaking the kiss, he pulled Yuuri further onto the bed. As he did so, the strings of his bathrobe came undone and his naked body touched Yuuri’s clothes directly. He moaned softly, licking the inside of Yuuri’s cheek. Perhaps instinctively, Yuuri pulled his legs slightly apart so Victor could fit better against him.

Victor broke the kiss then, stealing a glance at the other’s face. Yuuri looked pleasurably dazed, pupils blown wide, lovely pink flush beginning to creep onto his face and neck.

Victor looked meaningfully at Yuuri’s overly-dressed chest and then back at Yuuri’s eyes, a silent request.

Yuuri nodded minutely, blushing a shade darker and slowly taking a hand to lightly caress the side of Victor’s exposed thorax with his knuckles. Victor shivered and hurried to put their mouths together again, grabbing at the zip pull of Yuuri’s hoodie, eager to touch more of the other’s skin.

On pulling the zip, though, the metal slid against his own exposed chest and there must’ve been an imperfectly finished sharp edge to it, because, as he did so, he felt it painfully cut through his skin.

 

 _“No! Alyosha, what have you done?”_ , a panicked, shrill woman’s voice ringed clearly in his head.

 

Victor gasped and immediately broke apart from Yuuri, sitting up and looking at the thin line of blood on the left side of his chest.

In his irrational, rapidly growing panic, he barely registered Yuuri’s shy whimper of loss and hurriedly ran to the bathroom. Once there, he blindly grabbed at a towel and firmly held it against his chest to staunch the bleeding while allowing his shaking knees to drop onto the floor.

His rapid shallow breaths were brought to an end as soon as he looked up to see Yuuri’s worried face looking down at him from the bathroom’s doorway, hands clasped against his chest.

“V-Victor? What is wrong? Are… are you hurt? W-what…? I…”, he knelt in front of Victor, face pale with remorse and confusion, “… I’m sorry.”, he whispered shakenly.

 _No_. Yuuri had done nothing wrong. There was nothing for him to apologise. Victor had merely cut himself with…

 _Wait_. What terrible haemorrhage was he so desperately trying to stop?

Victor blinked, suddenly regaining clarity to his thoughts. It felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice cold water down his head.

His actions made no sense. Or, at the very least, he had blown them completely out of proportion.

“Let me… let me see it.”, Yuuri said softly, carefully pulling the towel away from Victor’s chest. His hands were shaking.

Victor didn’t resist the movement in the least. He wanted to see it too. Confirm that his head had just played a trick on him.

Indeed, the very thin scratch the zip pull had left on his chest wasn’t even bleeding anymore.

Yuuri looked immediately relieved.

“You’re okay, Victor. It’s okay. It’s just a scratch.”, he said, body losing its previously tense posture. He released a little relieved chuckle, “It’s just a scratch, Victor.”

 _What the hell just happened?,_ Victor thought, suddenly finding the whole situation unbelievably comical. What a ridiculous scene.

“I… I felt like I was going to bleed to death!”, he confessed, laughing at the stupidity of his own words, “Like… like in a horror movie!”

“Oh no, a murderous zip pull!”, Yuuri joined in on Victor’s laughter, sitting down on the bathroom’s tiled floor with a little thump, “More dangerous than a scalpel!”

“More dangerous that the axe murderer!!”, Victor wheezed between laughs, a silly heart-shaped smile plastered to his face.

They laughed until they doubled over each other with laugher spasms, until tears rose to their eyes, until they started worrying that they were going to wake up the other hotel guests.

Eventually, they decided to call it a day and go to sleep. After all, the next day was going to be filled with the expectation of conquests, promises and… decisions.

“Tomorrow, after the free skate, we will each decide about our future and figure skating. Only after the free skate. Do you agree?”, Victor whispered into the darkened room from his bed right beside Yuuri’s.

There was the soft rustling of bedclothes as Yuuri turned towards Victor in the dark.

“Yes. After the free skate, we will decide.”, he agreed quietly.

Victor smiled into the darkness, hopeful, and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know… But, worry not, more sexy times will come your way! No more murderous zip pulls, I promise.  
> Back to the chapter at hand, I’m curious, what do you guys think caused Victor to freak out like that? Tell me about your theories in the comments below! Also, if you enjoyed reading this fic thus far, know that kudos always leave a smile on my face. (^_^)


	10. Let it lead me to my past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your support, guys! I’m so glad that you stuck to this story thus far. This chapter is *mostly* sexy times and fluff, please enjoy! (^_^)  
> The events depicted in the following chapter happened somewhere during the end of Yuri!!! on Ice S01E12, more specifically, right after the exhibition. There are a few quotes from chapter 8 in this one, which means that you may have to reread chapter 8 to fully understand what is being conveyed by them. Unless you have a really good memory, that is. I hear some people do.

✽  _Barcelona, mid-December, 2017_ ✽

 

It was the late afternoon of a short winter day.

The hotel room was dark, the gentle purring of the air conditioning system the only sound breaking the silence of its walls.

Suddenly, the sound of muffled footsteps and giggles was heard from the corridor. There was the beeping of the key card being accepted by the lock and soon the door was being pushed open.

In the doorway, the silhouettes of two men were illuminated by the well-lit, otherwise empty, corridor. They seemed to be hugging, perhaps kissing.

One of the men disentangled himself from the other’s embrace to put the key card in the slot that would bring the lights of the room back to life. The other man whimpered at the loss of his warmth. But it was a very short-lived loss, as Victor turned back to Yuuri as soon as the lights were on and they were once again leaning together against the hurriedly closed door.

Yes, they were definitely kissing. And unzipping and unbuttoning their respective coats as they did.

They let the coats fall to the floor and Yuuri gently pushed off the door, making them shuffle backwards and get tangled with the discarded coats at their feet, which resulted with both slowly crashing against the floor and each other with a new flood of giggles.

They were still wearing their exhibition outfits, having left the rink in a hurry right after Yuri’s refreshingly unorthodox exhibition piece.

In fact, they had taken Yuri’s spitted advice to “Get a room!” seriously and had stuck just long enough to watch the gold medallist thoroughly fluster the already stunned audience. Then, when everyone was otherwise distracted, they snuck out of the building, only stopping to cover the flashier pink and blue top parts of their outfits with their Japan hoodie and light brown trench coat.

They would be back in time for the banquet. But, right now, they were finally giving in to the desires that their pair skating exhibition had awakened in them during their performance. Kissing heatedly. On the floor. The carpeted floor of a hotel room where people walked on while wearing their outside shoes.

The Japanese in Yuuri grimaced against Victor’s lips and he gently pushed against Victor’s chest.

“B-bed. Vic… tor… bed...”, he managed between chuckles as Victor kept trying to capture Yuuri’s dodging lips in his own, dropping sweet pecks along Yuuri’s jawline instead.

Yuuri pushed again, firmer this time and, in doing so, he felt some kind of hard, perhaps metallic, object on Victor’s chest, under the pink shirt, golden exterior cords aside.

He thought he had felt it before, during the exhibition piece. Was it… some sort of necklace?

 _I haven’t seen Victor wearing a necklace before._ , Yuuri mused as Victor struggled to get them both to their feet and on the bed, as per Yuuri’s request.

Once on the bed, they sat side by side for a few seconds to hurriedly take their shoes off. Because Yuuri took this chance to also put his glasses away, Victor was faster, and literally pounced on a giggling Yuuri, straddling him, a big heart-shaped smile dancing on his lips.

Yuuri, lips glistening and red, dark hair sticking everywhere, looked up at the smiling silver-haired man, big brown sparkling eyes warm with adoration. Almost reverently, he caressed Victor’s cheek with the very tips of his fingers.

“I love you.”, he whispered in awe, solemn.

Victor’s smile grew impossibly bigger and he crooned happily, bending down to hug Yuuri’s chest like an octopus, warm cheek rubbing against Yuuri’s exposed collarbone.

“Oh Yuuri…! I love you too. So much…!”, he singsonged.

Yuuri chuckled, returning the hug. For a few seconds, they just stayed like that, giddy happy grins mirrored in each of their faces.

Eventually, Victor shifted, accidently grinding their pelvis together and coaxing a pleased moan out of them both. And just like that, the urgency of before returned with a vengeance.

They were kissing again, hands roaming over arms, face, hair, neck…

“Off…”, Victor whispered against Yuuri’s jaw, pulling at the blue shirt’s black lapel, “… Off?”, he insisted in the form of a question whose tone was suspiciously similar to a dog’s treat begging vocalization.

Yuuri nodded, vehement, and started pulling at the shirt, fumbling awkwardly with the silver cords. Victor sat up, him too struggling with his own outfit.

When they were both appropriately shirtless, Yuuri tried to pull Victor back down for a kiss, but Victor resisted, grabbing at the golden necklace still resting on his chest.

Yuuri’s attention, focused up to that moment on Victor’s perfect abdomen, was diverted to said necklace and, for a moment, he stared.

 _Where have I seen that before?_ , he asked himself.

But the question didn’t linger in Yuuri’s head for long, because soon Victor was leaning down and over Yuuri to put the necklace on the bedside table and that movement once again sparkled pleasure between their touching hips.

Yuuri moaned, raw desire raising from within. In one swift, elegant movement, he pushed against Victor’s chest and rolled on top of him, proposedly grinding down, first slowly, then picking up speed.

“… mhm… yes… perfect…”, Victor praised, hands grabbing Yuuri’s ass and pushing in sync with the other’s rhythmic movement.

Yuuri gasped and mewled, then leaned down to frantically kiss Victor again, hands splaying on the other’s alabaster chest, warm fingers gently grazing against the perking pink nipples there.

“Ah…”, Victor breathed out shakenly, “… mhm… off. Please, Yuuri. P-please… Off…”, Victor rasped while dodging Yuuri’s hungry mouth, insistently pushing at Yuuri’s trousers, thumbs slipping between the offending cloth and the desired warm flesh.

Yuuri whimpered in protest but the Japanese in him came forward once again, urging him to take the rest of his clothes off. After all, they really should avoid irreparably staining their expensive skating outfits.

Free from their respective black trousers and boxer briefs, skin finally met skin in a heated embrace, all tangled limbs and warm kisses, sweet caresses and frantic rhythmic movements.

Pleased moans, whimpers, gasps and grunts… all the muffled sounds of amazing lovemaking and the rustling of bedclothes could be heard in the empty corridor. Until they couldn’t. And then, only a sense of peaceful completion remained.

“That… was amazing…”, Victor declared a little breathlessly still, fingers drawing lazy circles on the small of Yuuri’s back.

“Yeah…”, Yuuri chuckled against Victor’s chest, body pleasantly relaxed, draped over the Russian like a warm blanket.

Victor kissed the top of Yuuri’s head and they dozed off in their afterglow for a bit.

Soon, though, the muffled sound of footsteps and voices could be heard from the corridor.

Victor woke up with a jolt to a violent knock on their door, the sudden tension in Yuuri’s body informing him that the other was also awake.

“Oy! Old Man! Katsudon!”, came Yuri’s obnoxious yells through the wood, “Yakov said that you have to be in the banquet too. We’re leaving in thirty minutes, so get ready!”

“Got it!”, Victor singsonged, loud and cheerful.

Yuuri snickered quietly against his chest.

“Yeah, you better… disappearing like that… irresponsible idiots…”, was Yuri’s angry mumbled reply as he clearly stomped away from the door in his customary bad mood.

“Alright! Join me for a shower?”, Victor asked suggestively with a seductive smile.

Yuuri blushed but nodded, lovingly smiling back, then chastely kissing Victor’s pleased lips.

As they were getting up from the bed, though, Yuuri’s eyes fell on the necklace laying on the bedside table and paused. Victor raised from the bed and walked to the bathroom, oblivious to Yuuri’s reaction, as the brunette put his glasses back on to take a look at the fascinating object.

It was a golden necklace with a green stone flower on its charm. The curious piece of jewellery was oddly familiar to Yuuri, but he couldn’t quite place it. Where had he seen this before?

“Victor?”, Yuuri called.

“Yes?”, Victor said from the bathroom.

The gentle sound of the shower’s water spray being turned on filled the room.

“This necklace… where did you get it?”

A curious silver-haired head popped up from the bathroom.

“What?”, Victor’s blue eyes followed Yuuri’s gaze to the bedside table, realization dawning on his happy features, “Oh, that. Babushka wanted me to wear this outfit again, remember?”

“Direktrisa Evgenia?”

“Yes.”

Yuuri nodded, “I remember you promising her that you would.”

“Yes, and so I did!”, Victor proudly declared.

Yuuri chuckled.

“Well, she says it always reminds her of the clothes I was wearing when I arrived at the orphanage. I was wearing that necklace too, so I thought I should wear it today! To complete my persona.”, he calmly explained, dropping a wink at the end.

 

_“May victory find you and never leave you, Katsuki Yuuri.”_

 

Yuuri gasped. That wink. That…

Since their encounter with Evgenia Nikiforova, Victor had told Yuuri about his amnesia to his life before the orphanage. But…

No. It couldn’t be.

“Yuuri?”, Victor hesitantly asked, coming closer, shower all but forgotten.

Or… could it?

“May… may I?”, Yuuri whispered, gesturing at the necklace.

“Sure!”

Yuuri grabbed the necklace with trembling hands, turning it over between his fingers. It was cold at first, but soon the metal warmed up to meet the temperature of his touch.

It had been so long ago and he hadn’t taken a very good look at the necklace back then, never actually holding it in his hands, but…

“The resemblance is uncanny.”, he whispered, mesmerized.

 

_“A long time ago, I had this music box made for my grandson.”_

 

“Resemblance?”, Victor asked carefully.

“I… I think I’ve seen this necklace before. Or, well, a necklace that looked a lot like this one.”

Victor’s eyes went impossibly wide.

“You have?? Where?”, he asked, suddenly urgent.

Yuuri didn’t reply for a few moments, staring open-mouthed at the writing on the back of the charm, of which he could only read one word. A very familiar word.

“In Hasetsu.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the few of you who have read my other works, it surely didn’t come as a surprise that my writing of spicy scenes doesn’t include the detailed description of the spices themselves. For all the others that are new to my writing, I hope my depiction of a sex scene didn’t disappoint you…  
> And this story is reaching its end! Although you can see that this fic will have 12 chapters, that’s actually not completely correct, as chapter 12 is just a little epilogue and it will be published at the same time as chapter 11, which means that, yes, only one more update to go!  
> Fuel my last efforts for this fic with comments and kudos, please? (^_^) It would mean a lot to me.


	11. And bring me home at last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes the last chapter! (Next is the Epilogue.)  
> The events depicted in the following chapter happened somewhere during the end of Yuri!!! on Ice S01E12, more specifically, after the previous chapter and before the scene where Victor, Yuuri, Yuri and Makkachin are all together in Russia.

✽ _Barcelona, mid-December, 2017_ ✽

 

“What happened to Sophie-san’s music box?”, Minako repeated Yuuri’s question right back at him on the phone, imprinting the words with surprise and confusion, “She left it in my care when she passed. It’s in my living room… I’m actually looking at it from across the room right now… Why?”

Minako and Mari had returned to Hasetsu on the previous day and, ever since the necklace revelation, Yuuri had been nervously waiting for it to be daylight in Japan to make this call.

“May Victor and I pay you a visit tomorrow to take a look at it?”, Yuuri asked, trying his best to stop the urgency he truly felt from bleeding into his voice.

“Why would you two come to my house straight from Barcelona just to look at an old music box?”, Minako asked with a chuckle.

“Er… It’s…”, Yuuri hesitated.

They were at the banquet of the Grand Prix Final. Yuuri was at the phone by the canapés and, a couple meters away from him, Victor was trying to drag Chris into a dance off – a banquet tradition that drunk Yuuri might’ve or might’ve not created.

Clad in an elegant dark grey suit that clung snugly to his beautiful features, Victor was hugging Chris’ shoulders with one arm and laughing, not a worry in the world. Yuuri smiled affectionately at the back of his fiancé’s head and took a deep breath.

“It’s complicated. We’ll explain everything tomorrow when we get there… if that’s alright?”, Yuuri added awkwardly, clearly as an afterthought.

“Alright…”, Minako drawled, obviously trying to keep her curiosity under check, “Yes, sure, you can come over. No problem.”

“Thank you, Minako-sensei!”, Yuuri enthusiastically replied, making a little bow that the ballet instructor couldn’t see. Although she could perhaps feel it.

“Sure.”, Minako chuckled on the other side.

 

✽ _Hasetsu, mid-December, 2017 – the following day_ ✽

 

“There. This is Sophie-san’s music box.”, Minako declared as she carefully set the box down on the table around which the three of them were sitting, “Although, without the key to wind it up, you can’t make it play, or even open the l-…”, she interrupted herself, worry suddenly weighing on the skin around her eyes, “Victor? Are you all right?”

Victor was staring at the box, mouth slightly ajar, looking ashen. At Minako’s last words, he’d raised his hand to gently slid the tip of his index finger over the necklace-shaped indent at the front of the box. In his eyes, a shimmer of stricken recognition.

“Victor?”, Yuuri asked softly.

“Marie Sophie Frederikke Dagmar.”, Victor whispered as if in a daze. The words were spoken so very quietly one could doubt they had even come out of his mouth.

Yuuri dry-gulped, suddenly unsure about this decision.

“Mari… who?”, Minako hesitantly asked.

“Do you know that person?”, Yuuri asked slowly.

Victor didn’t reply. Yuuri and Minako exchanged equally worried looks. Then, slowly, almost fearfully, Yuuri touched Victor’s shoulder.

“Victor.”

The reaction was immediate. Victor blinked and looked up at Yuuri, beautiful blue eyes finding their focus in Yuuri’s warm brown ones. His skin became less pale, his features relaxed.

“Maria Feodorovna.”, he explained with a smile, “You know, spouse to Alexander III, mother to Nicholas II and grandmother to Alexei Nikolaevich!”, he said with a chuckle. On receiving no reaction from his interlocutors, he added, as if he was handing them the last piece of a very silly puzzle, “Of Russia.”

Yuuri and Minako stared blankly back at him, utterly speechless. Victor frowned. He thought he’d been clear enough.

“Marie Sophie Frederikke Dagmar. That was the name of the mother of the last tsar of Russia!”, he further clarified.

“The… Romanov?”, Minako asked, unsure.

Victor nodded vigorously, clearly happy to be finally understood.

“I… I still don’t…”, Yuuri shyly said, awkwardly blushing, “What does that have to do with…?”

“Oh.”, Victor looked back at the box, seemingly to inspect it more carefully, “Nothing. I just thought it was a funny coincidence. That this woman, Sophie Frederikke, from Denmark, shared the Grand Duchess’ name and country of origin.”, he confessed with a shrug.

“Indeed. It’s a curious coincidence.”, Minako slowly agreed, “Well, never mind that. Why did you want to see this box so much?”

“Well, that’s because-”, Yuuri started.

“I have the key!”, Victor exclaimed, triumphant, accidently interrupting Yuuri in his excitement to show Minako the necklace.

“You do??”, Minako asked, dumbfounded, while carefully taking the necklace Victor was pushing into her hand, “You… do.”, she repeated, staring at the piece of jewellery, looking shaken.

She moved the charm in her hands, wide-eyed as her brain insistently verified the data it was collecting, over and over again. The object she was holding was incredibly similar to Sophie’s necklace, down to the smallest detail.

“But… it’s… not possible…”, she whispered, eyes slowly raising to look at Victor. As she did so, she saw it. She saw him. She saw her. The hair, the cheeks, the nose, the eyes… There was an obvious likeness. How had she never noticed it before?

“I grew up in an orphanage.”, Victor calmly explained as he gently took the necklace from Minako’s lax grasp, “Although I was already a boy when I arrived there, I have no recollection of my previous life, not even of my birth-given name.”, he continued his story as he easily fit the charm into its appropriate slot in the music box and started twisting it, “So, I was given a new name and a new, wonderful life. From my past, only this necklace and a nightmarish story from those who found me at the orphanage’s doorstep remained. Something terrible must’ve happened to me. Thankfully, I forgot all about it. But… well, I also forgot about her...”, he opened the lid of the music box.

 

Inside, a strikingly familiar little doll gracefully skated to [an oddly nostalgic melody](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DS9qgtga5mz0&t=YWU5MGZlMmZiMGFjYTIxNzAyYjY2Y2IxZmU5MWZmYzNmYzIyYTVlYSxOSGNKa0VnVw%3D%3D&b=t%3AuQP6nFk6VcMfs2Zpp3QKMw&p=http%3A%2F%2Fbururaven.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F165273233139%2Fonce-upon-a-december&m=1).

 

As the melody permeated the otherwise silent room, the veracity of Victor’s words seemed to dawn on Minako’s chest like a weight. She felt very happy and very sad all at once… and why was the living room so blurry all of a sudden?

“Minako-sensei? What is it?”, Yuuri was asking, concerned.

Oh yes, she was crying, that was why.

Victor moved to close the box’s lid, but Minako stopped him with a light touch to his wrist. She hurriedly rubbed at her eyes and sat straighter, trying to clear her voice.

“Right before dying, Sophie-san told me that her grandson would come to Hasetsu one day. And she made me a request that I promised I would carry out.”, Minako paused to lock eyes with Victor, “See, back then, I thought Sophie-san’s inconsistent allusions to her grandson were a form of denial. Or just the ramblings of a hurt, lonely, perhaps exiled, somewhat senile old lady… in grieving. But I cared for her. It didn’t matter if I didn’t believe that her grandson would ever come. The only thing that mattered was that, as long as she believed it, her pain was more bearable.”

Yuuri nodded in agreement. Victor just stared on, expectant, blue eyes open wide. Were they not sitting on the floor, Minako was sure he would be sitting on the very edge of his seat.

“What was her request?”, he asked, barely hiding his impatience.

“She asked me to give her grandson his music box back and to tell him that she was very proud of the person he’d become and of the happiness he’d found. She also said «Thank you for keeping [your promise](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12075945/chapters/27966117), my brave boy.», although I’m not sure she was still talking to me when she said that. Those were her last words.”

It was Minako’s and Yuuri’s turn to stare expectantly at Victor. For a few seconds, he seemed to be in deep thought. Then, he released one of his trademark carefree laughs, effectively breaking the heavy suspense.

“I have no idea what that promise was and I don’t remember ever owning a music box.”, he breathed out between the last of his laugher, becoming more serious afterwards, “But Sophie-san sounded like a nice lady, I wish I could’ve met her before she passed.”

“Oh!”, Minako exclaimed, “I have a photo of her, I’ll go get it!”, she declared, hurriedly getting to her feet.

“Do you think Sophie-san really was your grandmother?”, Yuuri asked after Minako left.

“Who knows? Maybe. You said she told you that the jewellery had been custom-made. My necklace is a perfect fit in the music box’s key slot. It also told me to come to Hasetsu, where she was. Looks like very compelling evidence to me!”, Victor declared cheerfully, only for his expression to fall a little, “Although… she was from Denmark and, when I reached the orphanage, Russian was the only language I spoke…”

“Yes, that’s rather odd…”, Yuuri agreed, looking thoughtful, “Unless your parents were emigrants to Russia?”, he suggested.

“Could be!”, Victor exclaimed, making a thumbs-up at Yuuri.

Yuuri chuckled as a newly returned Minako sat back down at the table.

“There you go!”, she said, passing them a picture frame that held the photograph of a same-looking Minako and a beautiful, smiling elderly lady.

Victor stared hard at the picture, both Minako and Yuuri holding their breath in anticipation. A few seconds passed.

“I can’t remember her.”, he declared with a shrug.

Yuuri facepalmed and Minako let her head drop to the table in defeat at that.

“But!”, Victor exclaimed suddenly, making the others turn to face him with a jolt, “Am I the only one who thinks that that little dancing ballerina looks a lot like Yuuri?”, he asked, big heart-shaped smile on his face.

“What??”, Yuuri sputtered, shocked.

“Oh! You think that too?”, Minako asked with a chuckle, “So, I am not the only one! I always thought the doll looked like a little skating Yuuri…! It even has a blue outfit…!”

“Huh…?”, Yuuri cried out, head turning between the other too as if he couldn’t believe his ears.

“And those are definitely skates on its feet. Amazing!”, Victor declared, completely ignoring his boyfriend’s reaction. Smiling, he leaned closer to the box, which had stopped playing a few minutes previously, to take a closer look at the little immobile figure, “And you say that Sophie-san got this box specifically made for her grandson?”, he asked more seriously.

“Yes, though she once told me that she hadn’t had a say on any of the ornaments or the design of the music box.”, Minako promptly supplied, “She said something like them ending up being what they were meant to be… or something like that. She would often say cryptic things like that. I always passed them off as glitches of an old brain…”, she paused, a nostalgic fond smile gracing her lips, “Perhaps I should’ve payed more attention to them.”, she added.

“Fascinating.”, Victor said, thoughtful expression on his face, “But, if she gave this box to her grandson, how come it was in her possession?”

“Oh, it wasn’t!”, Minako explained, “She acquired it only a few years before she passed away. She randomly found it in a rather shady auction and recognized its photograph. It wasn’t too hard to acquire, but, when her necklace key fit perfectly in it, she was defeated. I think she saw that discovery as further proof that all of her family was indeed dead. Until…”, Minako paused to look at Yuuri meaningfully, “… she didn’t.”

Yuuri blushed slightly at having his Victor Nikiforov fanboy side exposed once again. Victor discreetly laced their fingers together under the table and squeezed reassuringly.

“That was probably when she found out about you, Victor. She must’ve recognized you…!”, Minako exclaimed in sudden realization.

“Do you think she knew?”, Yuuri asked, eyes wide.

Minako hesitated.

“No. She didn’t _know_. She couldn’t have. But I think she suspected it, at least.”, she conceded.

Victor nodded in acquiescence.

“And what did she tell you about her grandson?”, he asked.

“Mm, let’s see…”, Minako absent-mindedly scratched her chin while looking dreamingly at the music box, “Her grandson was very beautiful and sickly. I don’t know what kind of condition he had, but it was something serious.”

“Do you have a serious condition that you never told me about?”, Yuuri whispered close to Victor’s ear.

“Besides a severe Katsuki Yuuri deficiency?”, Victor humorously whispered back, “None that I know of.”

They snickered quietly. Minako was still scratching her chin, trying to gather her memories.

“Mm, what else…? He was the youngest out of five grandchildren.”, she said, “The other four were girls and Sophie-san was certain they were all gone. As well as her son and daughter-in-law. She never talked about their deaths, but I always thought it had been some kind of accident… certainly something violent and traumatic. I don’t know why she would think that one of the children hadn’t died, though. Although she never told me the actual facts, it made no sense to me.  That’s why I always believed that her insistence on this matter was a form of denial, you know? Because she couldn’t accept that her little Alyosha had died too-”

“Alyosha?”, Victor interrupted, an odd expression on his face.

“Yes. Does that name stir any memories?”, Yuuri asked softly, hopeful.

“No. But…”, Victor hesitated, looking unsure, “It’s just that Alyosha is a common diminutive for the name Alexei.”

“Alexei?”, Minako asked, lost.

“R-Romanov??”, Yuuri gasped out, big brown eyes open wide in realization, “No way…”

“It is some amazing coincidence!”, Victor agreed with a carefree laugh, “Little Alexei was, in fact, a very sickly child. He suffered from a severe form of haemophilia. And he had four older sisters. Of course, there is no way Sophie-san’s family and the Romanov were the same people. The young Tsarevich was executed by the Bolshevik, along with his parents and sisters, almost a century ago. And the Grand Duchess died before our parents were even born.”

Minako nodded, “It’s certainly just a coincidence.”, she said, solemn.

“Yes.”, Victor agreed with a chuckle.

“Still, although a few details don’t add up, most seem to corroborate the idea that Sophie-san was your grandmother, Victor.”, Yuuri said.

“Yes.”, Minako agreed.

Victor nodded, serious again. He closed the music box’s lid and took the necklace off its slot, staring at the back of its charm.

“I had a map with me all along, telling me to come to Hasetsu. And here she was, waiting for me at the goal line the whole time.”, he sighed, “But she died before I ever figured out what the map said, or even that it was a map.”

“I don’t think she minded about any of that.”, Minako whispered with inexplicable certainty, “Perhaps she did in the beginning. But then… Then, she simply wanted you to be happy.”

They were silent for a while, all of them lost in thought.

“Well…”, Minako sighed, breaking the silence, “Alyosha, no, Alexei-”

“Pleease…!”, Victor interrupted her, laughing. Minako smirked mischievously, but nodded, understanding.

“Victor.”, she indulged him, “The music box is yours. Keep it. Sophie-san loved you very much and was very proud of you. She seemed to choose your happiness over the chance of reuniting with you and she…”, Minako hesitated, gaze sliding to Yuuri, a cryptic expression on her face as she seemed to be evaluating him.

“… W-what?”, Yuuri asked weakly, blushing nervously under the former ballerina’s gaze.

“And she was certain that you would find your happiness when you got to Hasetsu, Victor.”, she smiled knowingly, “Which you did.”, she finished matter-of-factly, then raised to her feet, “Man, I need a drink!”, she declared, walking towards the liquor cabinet, “Do you want something? Let’s see, I have…”

 

✽

 

“I’m sorry.”, Yuuri whispered as they walked back together to Yu-topia Katsuki in the dry, cold December night.

Victor twisted to look at him, eyebrows raised in question, the Christmas lights of a nearby store reflected on his eyes as they walked by.

“Why are you apologizing, Yuuri?”, he asked softly.

“Even though you came to Hasetsu, you never got to reunite with your grandmother, your last living relative…”, he began, eyes downcast in sadness and guilt, “You never got to have your family back, a true family…”

“Yuuri…!”, Victor exclaimed, coming to a sudden halt in the otherwise deserted sidewalk, “What are you saying?”

Yuuri stopped walking too, turning to face Victor, unsure. Victor put his hands on the other’s shoulders and smiled wide.

“Yuuri, I have a true family. And I have found it in Hasetsu.”

It was a beautiful big smile that lighted up his whole face as the sea breeze gently caressed his silver bangs.

“That family is you.”

At first, Yuuri tried to rebut Victor’s words in his head. But, what he then saw in Victor’s eyes stopped him. The pure… adoration looking back at him could only be a mirror of what he felt for the amazing man in front of him. What had he done to deserve such happiness?

An undefinable warmth rose in his chest and tears fogged his vision. He released a pitiful sob that was swiftly muffled against soft lips.

“You are my family, my life, my reason for going forward. I love you, Yuuri.”, Victor whispered, breaking the kiss as he wiped Yuuri’s tear-stained cheeks with his thumbs, “And I’m grateful my necklace brought me here so I could find you.”, he paused, looking thoughtful for a split second, “Also, the twins’ video.”, he dutifully added, “And your inebriated request.”

Yuuri chuckled.

“… Well, there were a lot of variables involved.”, Victor concluded with a hearty laugh.

They both giggled their way back to Yu-topia Katsuki, sharing declarations of love, sweet promises and soft kisses along the way.

A wonderful future and a long happy life awaited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they went back to Russia and started training for their next season!! [cue last seconds of S01E12 + the movie + and the hypothetical many seasons to come]  
> All right! On to the Epilogue.


	12. Epilogue

✽ _Hasetsu, early April, 2087_ ✽

 

There is a lone figure standing in a graveyard.

It is the hunched figure of a man facing an old gravestone.

Delicate, soft-coloured flowers are peppered between the numerous memorials, the morning sunlight gently illuminating the fading names on the tired slabs.

The man, sparse silver hair and abundant deep wrinkles, had, no doubt, been a striking young man once. There’s an elegance to the way he stands, despite the slight hunch. At his advanced age, one could perhaps describe it as regal.

The man sways a little in place while holding on to his glossy walking stick, eyes closed and smiling.

It’s a beautiful, happy smile, softly sprinkled by a gentle sort of longing, as if the man is remembering nice things from his life. A life that has, no doubt, been long and fulfilling.

The man’s blue eyes flutter open and he slowly leans down to lay something at the base of the gravestone, fingers firmly grasping the handle of his poodle-adorned walking stick to get back to his previous vertical position. Well, as vertical as his hunch would allow, anyway.

Looking down at the stone, he smiles as one would to a dear old friend.

“Thank you, Grandmama.”, he whispers and walks away.

Quietly humming a familiar tune, trusty stick in hand, the man leisurely treads back the way he came. The memories of a love warmer than the sun fuel his brave steps, alone but never lonely because he has them with him.

 

On the grave, an ancient-looking necklace with a green gemstone flower on it has been joined by a pair of old blue-rimmed glasses.

 

                                            

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this fic was a very special experience for me. From the nights re-watching both Anastasia and Yuri!!! on Ice, to the nights researching the Romanov and the blood-curdling descriptions of the events surrounding their deaths (I had nightmares for two days after that and I cried while talking about it with my father, it was terrible), working on this story often felt like a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. Also, I had never tried such a lengthy updating schedule before, having published my previous works either all in one go or in a matter of just a few days.  
> I wanted to tell you a story that would enrich canon without directly changing it. I’m not sure I succeeded, but it was fun to write, regardless.  
> Anyway, thank you for sticking with me to the end. I hope you enjoyed this ride as much as I did and I hope to see you around on my other works.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of this story by commenting below! (^_^)


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